


Eulogies

by BellaMortis



Series: Trope Bingo - Round 3 [9]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Presumed Dead, Thor Feels, Tony Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-07
Updated: 2014-05-07
Packaged: 2018-01-23 21:36:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1580369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BellaMortis/pseuds/BellaMortis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>-Continued from <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1417638">"Benediction"</a>.</p>
<p>Tony and Thor both find their own way of grieving out on the balcony where things began.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eulogies

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Anything trademarked is not mine. Just the embarrassing situations.
> 
> Okay, so I lied about the sequel to "Mixed Signals" being next. I got attacked by a plot bunny. Anyway, this was written for the Presumed Dead trope on my card.

It was a cool night, one of those perfect nights that made Tony glad that he had a balcony.  He sat in one of the sun chairs, arm wrapped securely around a mostly empty bottle of liquor, and looked up at the stars.

 

Somewhere up there, supposedly, was that dead dark elf planet that Thor had mentioned.  The one that Tony just knew he wouldn’t be able to pronounce.  The one where Loki -

 

Tony took another drink, looking at the bottle to see what it was he had been downing, but there was no label.  Huh.  He must have put it in this decanter for some reason, but damned if he remembered why.

 

Putting the bottle down again, he turned back to the stars.  

 

He ignored the little catch in his chest.  There was no reason for it.  

 

It had only been a few fucks.  

 

“Tony?”  

 

Tony jumped at the voice.  Familiar accent, but everything else was all wrong.  He turned his head just enough to see Thor as the god moved out onto the balcony.  “Hey, Blondie.  What’s shaking?”  

 

Thor walked over to the other sun chair, settling in it as though he had the weight of all the world - no, many worlds on his shoulders.  Even in the dim light from the doorway, he looked haggard, the evidence of past tears still on his face.  “Are you well?”  It was said with so much concern.

 

Tony scoffed.  “Why wouldn’t I be, buddy?”  He turned away from the shadowed eyes, raising the bottle again.

 

A large hand shot out, wrapping around the wider part of the bottle, just under where Tony’s was resting on the neck.  “You do not seem so, my friend.”

 

Tony narrowed his eyes.  No one got between him and his alcohol.  Especially when -

 

Just no.

 

“It’s fine.  I’m fine.”  He tugged at the bottle, and wasn’t surprised when it didn’t help.  “Don’t worry about my problems, Thor, when yours are so much worse.”

 

Thor’s look turned incredulous, then flashed to worry and confusion in rapid succession.  It really was quite amazing how easy he was to read.  “Whenever you start talking about not worrying, it is usually the time to start doing so ten-fold.  Am I going to have to get the Lady Pepper?”

 

Tony laughed, and even to him it sounded sickly, a shadow of what it usually was.  A shade.  He shook his head.  “No need to bug her tonight.  Just,” he thought for a moment, carding through his options, then went with the simplest, “just let me finish my drink.”  He resolutely didn’t meet the god’s eyes, instead looking down at Thor’s chest as he jiggled the bottle again.

 

Thor relented, releasing the bottle at such a time that it splashed up onto Tony’s hand.  He was silent just long enough for Tony to get the opening up to his mouth, the liquid going in, before he quietly spoke.  “I think I know what it is.  You miss him, too.”

 

The undoubtedly expensive whatever burned as Tony accidentally tried to inhale it.  Tony coughed, splattering even more of the stuff all over himself.  “Um, what?” he asked, eyes wide and voice rough from the liquor.  Only from the liquor.

 

Thor’s eyes were sharp and focused fully on Tony.  It was the kind of look that spoke of centuries lived, and it was a strange one on the usually boisterous thunder god.  “You cannot fool me, Tony Stark.  I let you believe I did not know about your connection with Loki while my brother was alive out of respect for him, but I refuse to continue to do so out of respect for you.”  He sighed.  “Also, out of respect for myself.”

 

Tony stared at Thor.  That was, wow.  “How?”  It was all he could think to say.

 

A single corner of Thor’s lips curled up.  “He has,” he grimaced, pain flashing in the blue eyes, “had a very distinctive scent.”

 

Huh.  That deserved another drink.  After he drew the bottle away again, he couldn’t help chuckling.  “Everything about him was very distinctive.”

 

Thor took it as the invitation that it was, and soon the normally booming voice was telling quiet stories in a deep rumble.  Tony just listened, occasionally making encouraging sounds as he thought of another time, another god telling him stories in the night.  They were so different it was hard not to compare them.  Thor’s humor was straight forward and he stayed still as he talked, a direct contrast to familiar dry wit and the graceful movements of pale hands illustrating points in the air.

 

Sighing, Tony kept his eyes on the stars until they faded into the light.  If a few tears snuck out of the corner of his eye, neither he nor Thor cared to mention them.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Continued in ["Revelations"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1591472).


End file.
